Tuesday, January 6, 2009

It had seemed like a simple enough mission: rescue a kidnapped princess and return her to her extremely wealthy family and adoring public. I knew that Planet Gor was a dangerous place, especially for women. I had read John Norman’s multi-volume account of the society and customs of Gor and thought I could handle it. I mean, I knew most of the women on the planet were slaves. I guess I thought I could fit in–you know, disguise myself and act subservient.

Actually, I was kind of looking forward to it. I thought it would be nice change to meet some real alpha males, after the long procession of manicured metrosexuals that have been parading through my life (at least, that was the advice Heather gave me.) I packed all my fanciest duds and my new rinky-dink, super-secret spy camera. The mission didn’t exactly turn out the way I had hoped, but at least I got some pics for my album!

Five minutes after getting off my ship I was captured (as was my plan), and dragged off to a bachelor pad that looked more like a seraglio. I had to play along for the sake of the mission. First, the manly men of Gor…

…made me wear a skimpy outfit and dance for them, while they all sat around eating, drinking, leering and scratching themselves. That wasn’t too bad. I like dancing! It was a little tough doing all that gyrating while keeping that tiny outfit on, though. While I was dancing I spotted the guy who had made off with our little princess. I made googly eyes at him (it took me years to learn that skill), and before I knew it…

…I was wearing a different skimpy outfit and was being forced to kneel, while he waved his sword around and made a very long speech about a woman’s true nature being subservient to man and the dangers of feminism and so on and so forth, yadda, yadda, yadda. I was beginning to get a bit impatient when he suddenly grabbed me, ripped off my skimpy outfit and said it was time for me to be branded. Well, I didn’t like that one bit. So I…

…pulled out a wicked little revolver from under the sleeping furs - and shot the bastard right between the eyes. Oops, Z., I said to myself–that was so not a good move. I still didn’t know where the princess was and I had just gone and killed my only source of info. Just then this goofy-looking guy came in and I was so thrilled. He was carrying the princess! I was quite surprised when he went into the same long speech about a woman’s true nature being subservient to man and the dangers of feminism and so on and so forth, yadda, yadda, yadda. I mean, his buddy was lying dead in a pool of blood on the floor and all. I really never thought that these Gor guys would be such chatterboxes. Just as I had figured out that the princess was (thankfully) still alive…

…a whole bunch of goofy-looking guys rushed in. They gave me the whole speech again about a woman’s true nature being subservient to man and the dangers of feminism and so on and so forth, yadda, yadda, yadda. Then they dragged me off to…

…the dungeon. Yeah. Well. It wasn’t my first time in jail and it probably won’t be my last. And I did get a brand new skimpy outfit to wear. Does my ass look fat in this dress? Oh, and I saw this really cool bird. Hold on–I’ve got a better picture of it here somewhere. Yup–here it is! Pretty cool, huh? So, where was I? Oh, yeah–so then…

…I escaped. I found the chief of the goofy-looking guys and convinced him that I was truly a good slave, worshiped him, etc, all that stuff. I blamed it all on the princess. Said she’d been trying to organize an uprising of dancing girls and that she was totally a bad influence. Couldn’t quite believe that he fell for it, but there you go. So, he had her called in to the throne room, and while he was admiring her …

…I slit his throat with a wicked little dagger I had hidden in my hair. I didn’t have anywhere else to hide it, what with being nekkid and all. Then his buddy (do these guys ever shut up!) started giving me the speech about–yeah, you guessed it–a woman’s true nature being subservient to man and the dangers of feminism and so on and so forth, yadda, yadda, yadda. So I had to kill him, too. I grabbed the princess and tried to hustle her off to my ship. But would you believe it? She refused to go! Said she liked the lifestyle, liked the clothes, the dancing, the whole bit. Said she’d never been happier. I was quite annoyed, I can tell you. After all the trouble I had gone to to rescue the wench! At first I thought it must be Stockholm Syndrome, but she was adamant. So I got her to write a letter to her folks. I got a picture for proof of life (and so I’d get paid!) Last I saw of her…

…she was wearing a skimpy outfit and making googly eyes at a really goofy looking guy, while he delivered the same long speech about a woman’s true nature being subservient to man and the dangers of feminism, and so forth, yadda, yadda, yadda. Bloody hell! Whatever happened to the strong, silent type?

I’ll tell you something, though – it was an interesting place. I wish I’d gotten to meet the wild warrior panther girls that are said to lurk in the mountains. I wish I’d gotten to fly on one of those birds. I wish I’d gotten to keep my skimpy outfits. But, alas, I had to cancel my planned vacation on Gor. The men just weren’t my type. I’m not averse to a little role-play, but these guys–jeez. They took themselves way too seriously. But I did learn a couple of things. 1. Never to take travel advice from Heather, and 2…

…I ain’t never going to Planet Gor again.

Being seeing you!Agent Z.

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About Me: Heather travels the sea of stars for news about science fiction romance. She's also an author in the genre. To get in touch, you can email her, or follow her on Twitter or Facebook.

About Me

Heather’s debut sci-fi romance novel, Once Upon a Time in Space, features the last living descendant of Christopher Columbus on a desperate quest to find a new world. Standing in his way is Raquel, the deadliest space pirate in the galaxy.